A Howler from Hogsmeade
by JoeMerl
Summary: A collection of short stories about Hugo Weasley. Newest chapter: "This is a class about HISTORY. What do you propose we should learn about instead?" "I dunno. Dragons, maybe?"
1. Sound

"Today's Hugo's first Hogsmeade trip," Hermione said conversationally as she and Ron sat down to dinner.

"Ah, that's right," said Ron, then chuckled as he buttered his bread. "I bet he'll send us a whole _novel_ about it."

She smirked. "I hope not. His last letter was so long, his poor owl could barely-oh, is that him now?"

There was a tapping on the kitchen window. "It's a bit early," Ron murmured, getting up to open it. "But I suppose—what?"

The bird that swooped into their flat was much larger than Hugo's small burrowing owl. More to the point, it merely flew in, dropped a bright red envelope onto the middle of their table and then swept back out, not even stopping in the hope of getting food.

But it was the bright red envelope that occupied the couple's attention.

"Is that a—"

Hermione picked up the envelope, holding it fearfully away from her body. "_Mum and Dad, The Kitchen, Apartment 625_—oh, Merlin's beard!"

The Howler had started to smoke, so she quickly threw it back onto the table. She looked in panic at Ron, who whipped out his wand and desperately tried to think of a spell to prevent what was coming.

"_DEAR MUM AND DAD, I'M AT HOGSMEADE RIGHT NOW AND IT'S_ SO _COOL! ZONKO'S HAS ALMOST AS MUCH GREAT STUFF AS THE JOKE SHOP. I BOUGHT AN EXPLODING INKWELL THAT I WAS GOING TO GIVE TO JAMES AS A PRANK BUT THEN LILY SAID THAT HE'D JUST GIVE IT TO SOMEBODY_ ELSE A_S A PRANK AFTERWARDS SO NOW I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT. MAYBE I'LL GIVE IT TO UNCLE PERCY TO GIVE TO UNCLE GEORGE BECAUSE THEN HE WON'T BE EXPECTING IT TO BE A PRANK? HE CAN USUALLY FIGURE IT OUT WHEN _I_ TRY TO PRANK HIM. I ALSO BOUGHT FIFTEEN GALLEONS' WORTH OF CANDY AT HONEYDUKES, INCLUDING THAT REALLY DELICIOUS FUDGE THAT DAD ALWAYS BUYS WHEN HE GOES TO HOGSMEADE. I'M GOING TO GIVE SOME TO FREDDY FOR HIS BIRTHDAY. I KNOW THAT IT WAS A FEW DAYS AGO BUT I TOLD HIM THAT I'D WAIT TO GET HIM SOMETHING IN TOWN. I SAVED THE POST OFFICE FOR LAST SO THAT I COULD WRITE TO YOU ABOUT MY TRIP. DO YOU KNOW THAT THEY SELL HOWLERS HERE?!_"

There was a pause. Slowly, gingerly, Ron and Hermione began to uncover their ears, wincing as they looked at the envelope that was still on the table.

"_ANYWAY,_" Hugo continued, as his parents flinched, "_LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY WEEK! ON MONDAY—_"


	2. Time Travel

**Author's Notes:** I wound up doing another Writer's Month prompt about Hugo, so I guess this is an anthology now. Don't be surprised if the title changes to "Tales of Hugo" or something in the future.

* * *

Professor Ara Wei, Astronomy teacher and Ravenclaw Head of House, drew a piece of parchment out from the pile on her desk. "Now, Mr. Weasley. it seems that you've signed up to take _all_ of the electives next year?"

"That's right!" Hugo said brightly. "I can't _wait_ for Care of Magical Creatures! Do you know that the seventh-years are studying a manticore right now? I went over to Hagrid's hut for tea and it almost ripped off my arm!"

"Yes, it figures you'd be excited by something like that. However—"

"And Magical Beings! I asked my parents and they said that they didn't have that class when they were in school, but my mum wishes that they had because it really helps foster understanding within the magical community. Plus in the older years they get to go to the merpeople's village, which should _totally be allowed for everyone_ and I'm still bitter about that by the way."

"The problem is—"

"I wasn't sure about Arithmancy, but Mum says it's really good, even though I'm a little confused about what Arithmancy actually is? _Both_ my parents say that Divination is a crock, but Uncle Percy says that's it's really useful if you have a talent for it, which he didn't, but he still managed to pass the O.W.L. so I figure-"

"_Mr. Weasley."_

"Yes, Professor?"

"I'm afraid you can't take that many electives. Several of them are scheduled against each other, and even for a student as...bright and...curious as you, this workload would just be too high. You'll have to limit yourself to three at most."

"Oh!" Hugo grinned. "Yeah, I meant to ask you about that. How do I get one of those Time-Turner things?"

Professor Wei blinked. "Pardon?"

"A Time-Turner! My mum got one so that she could take all of the electives in her third year. She kept going back in time, and since there were two of three of her at once, she could take multiple classes! I think my Uncles Percy and Bill might have too—I know they each got twelve O.W.L.s, at least. So anyway, do I fill out a form or something?"

He smiled as Professor Wei stared.

"Mr. Weasley. Time-Turners are _very_ rare and _very_ dangerous artifacts. I very much doubt that the Ministry of Magic approved your thirteen-year-old mother use of one in order to _finish her homework."_

Hugo's mouth fell open. "But they _did!_" he said hotly. "My mum wouldn't make something like that up! Dad, maybe, he always says the truth shouldn't get in the way of a good story, but—ask Professor McGonagall! She's the one who gave it to her."

"I'm not going to bother Professor McGonagall with such—"

"So you're afraid that I'm actually right, then?!"

Professor Wei's eyes narrowed.

"Five points from Ravenclaw for that tone, young man."

"But you'll ask her?"

She sighed. "_Fine._" There was no point in arguing with this boy, even over something so ridiculous.

"And if she says yes, I can take all those courses?"

"...No. Even if, by some infinitesimal chance, your story turns out to be true, I will fight tooth and nail to make sure that you do not get a Time-Turner."

Hugo looked outraged. "_Why?!_"

"I'm going to be blunt. You are one of my brightest students, but easily the most _exhausting._ In the two years that you've been at this school you've gatecrashed the merpeople's village, released a herd of hippogriffs onto the Quidditch pitch during practice and set fire to my classroom on _three_ separate occasions. The mere _thought_ of having two of you running around this school as once gives me a _splitting headache._ So please get back to me within the next few days and tell me which classes you're willing to drop."

Hugo sat back in his seat and crossed his arms mutinously.

"Can I drop _Astronomy?_"

"Not for at least three more years, Mr. Weasley." She gave a slow, shuddering sigh. "Not for three more years."


	3. Height Difference

Ron came into the room and was surprised to see his twelve-year-old son, Hugo, crying into his hands. Ten-year-old Freddy was sitting beside him, patting his back with a resigned look on his face.

Ron instantly switched to his panicky father mode, crouching down on one knee beside the two boys. "What's the matter, Hugh?" he asked, trying to find any wounds on his body. "Did you blow something up again?"

Hugo tried to say something, but it was incomprehensible in his misery. Ron gave a desperate look to Freddy, who rolled his eyes.

"He's finally noticed that I'm taller than him."

"...Oh."

"_Why am I so short?!_" Hugo wailed. "You adopted me from leprechauns, didn't you?!"

Ron rubbed his eyes. "For the last time, Hugo, just because James keeps telling you that doesn't make it so."

He squeezed in between the two boys. Freddy, relieved of his familial duty, turned away and began to read _The Daily Prophet_.

"It's not fair," Hugo sniffled, rubbing the tears from his eyes. "All the best people are tall except me! You, Uncle Percy, Uncle Bill—"

"Your Uncle George isn't tall. Hell, your mum's a bit short, too."

"_Well, they're taller than me! _I'm only four foot seven," he said, shoulders slumping.

"Four foot six," murmured Freddy.

Ron sighed, then reiterated the same speech that he had given Hugo numerous times before: everyone grew at their own pace, size didn't matter anyway, and even if Hugo _was_ short forever it probably just meant that his brain was using up all the stuff that the rest of his body needed. By this point George was calling him, so he gave his son an encouraging smile and a pat on the back before returning to the front of the shop.

"Curse my enormous and brilliant brain," Hugo said, crossing his arms in a way that him look very much like a petulant nine-year-old. "I'd trade at least ten percent of my I.Q. for a good ten inches." He quirked his head. "Well, maybe not; I really like being in the third quartile. But wait...my enormous and brilliant brain has an idea!"

Freddy looked up, his impassive face betraying the first hints of worry. "Hugo—"

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing! Now you get your Potions set, _I'll_ get some extra supplies from the storeroom."

"Hugo, no."

"Hugo, _yes!_"

* * *

Freddy went into the front of the shop a few moments later, just as his dad and Uncle Ron were wrapping up some Exploding Earmuffs for a pair of teenage witches. He waited for them to finish, giving exactly one fidget.

"Something you need, son?" George asked casually as the costumers left the store.

"Yes. But first, I would like preface my statement by noting that this was Hugo's idea. Given his seniority and strong personality, I had no power to stop these unfortunate circumstances that—"

"_AAAAGGGGHHHH!_" screamed Hugo from the back. Ron allowed half a second for his eyes to widen before rushing to see what was the matter.

"_Merlin's pants, Hugh!_"

* * *

Hugo lay in a hospital bed in St. Mungo's. One adult-sized arm hung over the side, looking ridiculous attached to his short, skinny torso. His feet were similarly mismatched, with one swollen so much that they had been forced to use a Severing Charm on his shoe. His ears and nose were so enlarged that he looked like a pale, freckly elephant. He had a lot of bandages on, what with all the skin ripping, but fortunately they had already shrunken his tongue and teeth enough for him to speak again.

"Just even me out a bit, Healer Morphy. I want to keep the mass, but distributed better."

"Shrink him enough that I can keep him in a bottle. It's the only way to stop this from happening again."

"_Dad!_"


	4. Pets

Ron Apparated into the kitchen to find Hermione eating dinner alone, save for a large pile of paperwork. His seven-year-old son, Hugo, stepped into the room at almost the same moment, carrying a plate.

"Hey, Dad! Mum, can I take some more food?"

"I suppose, but that's your third helping! You must be hungry tonight."

"Uh-huh," he said, already filling his plate from the food on top of the stove. "Bye!"

He ran out of the kitchen. Ron frowned at him.

"Why isn't he eating here?"

"Well, Rose is eating in hers, so he said this was only fair."

Ron grimaced as he took his own plate from the counter and sat down beside her. "She's still under the weather, then?"

"Well, it's the oddest thing. She doesn't have any problem keeping her food down, and she's not feverish. But she's still red all over and breathing strangely. I can't figure out _what's_ wrong with her."

"Hmm." Ron chewed thoughtfully. "Actually...it sounds a _bit_ like last year, remember? When she had a sleepover with that friend with all the—"

He froze, his fork stopping halfway to his mouth. Hermione looked up from her paperwork, frowning, then put the pieces together herself.

* * *

Hugo barely had time to hear his bedroom door unlock before Ron and Hermione burst into the room.

"_AGH!_"

He threw a blanket onto the room's other occupant, then jumped in between it and his parents, spreading his arms wide.

"Don't come in! I'm—naked?" It was a pretty weak lie, given that he standing right in front of them, fully-clothed.

"Hugo Wendell Granger Weasley, have you been hiding a _dog_ in your room?!"

"...No?"

Ron rolled his eyes and gave his wand a forceful wave. The blanket immediately flew into the air and then then fluttered back onto Hugo's bed, revealing a Staffordshire Bull Terrier. For its part, the dog was too busy licking Hugo's plate clean to pay much attention to these proceedings.

Hugo looked panicked for about two seconds before falling onto his knees and throwing his arms around the dog's neck. It kept eating as Hugo let out a desperate wail.

"YOU CAN'T TAKE FANTASTIC PRINCESS SPARKLES OMEGA!_ I LOVE HER!"_

Ron covered his face. "Merlin's pants, he's already named it. Ridiculously."

"Hugo, we have told you a thousand times, _we cannot have a dog._ Your sister is allergic. That's why she's been in her room, sick for the last two days!"

"That's not a problem!" Hugo said with a pitiful sniffle. "We can give her most of the flat, and Rose can just stay in her room except when—"

"_NO._"

"But she'll _starve!_"

Hermione sighed. "Hugo...we cannot have a dog. That's final."

"As for starving, you must have given her a lot of our food," Ron mumbled. "Look how fat she is."

Hugo's face brightened. "That's because she's full of _babies!_"

Ron and Hermione exchanged a nervous look.

* * *

Hugo was still crying as he walked through Diagon Alley, Ron patting him on the back.

"Now, now, calm down, Hugh. Mopsy will take good care of Princess and her puppies."

"_Fantastic Princess Sparkles Omega,_" Hugo grumbled.

"Look, we're going to buy you a new pet, alright? Anything they have at the pet shop, as long as it's not a dog."

Hugo looked up, his lip still trembling. "Even a manticore?"

"They're not going to have manticores at the pet shop, Hugh."

"But if they _do?_"

"...Fine."

That perked Hugo up a bit. He ran ahead as they reached the door to Magical Menagerie, already scanning the cages as his father stepped in. There were no manticores. Hugo swallowed his disappointment and decided to make the best of it.

"Dad, look at these cats!"

"We already have a cat," Ron noted as he joined him.

"I know, but...hey, what's _that?_" Hugo asked, pointing to the cage above them.

"It's a Streeler," said the woman behind the shop counter. "Pretty, isn't it? But I must warn you, they need a lot of care. Their slime trails are rather poisonous."

"_COOL!_"

Thus began the hour-long process of pet shopping. Hugo's attention turned from the Streelers to the snakes to the exploding rats to the ravens and then back to the exploding rats and then back to the Streelers, then to the owls and then to the Fwoopers. Ron had a mild panic attack when Hugo caught sight of the Fire Crabs; he quickly declared that Hugo would have to replace anything that his pet future destroyed out of his own allowance, and after a lot of internal debate Hugo turned his attention elsewhere.

Ron was examining the Auguries, thinking that they might be interesting enough for Hugo despite their general safeness, when Hugo gasped loudly from ten feet away.

"Dad, come here! I found what I want!"

Ron rolled his eyes indulgently as he walked over to see what it was. Instantly his smile faltered.

"He _likes_ me," Hugo said, cooing over the monster in the tank. "See? When I put my hand on the grass he reaches out like he's trying to touch me!"

Ron cleared his throat. "Did you—see the nice Auguries? Or maybe we should check out the exploding rats again."

"But you said I couldn't show them to my Muggle friends! I want _this_ one," he said, pointing to the tank.

"...You can't have that one, Hugh."

He spun around. "But you said I could have anything I wanted!"

"I know, but..." Ron looked around desperately, as though hoping an excuse would present itself in one of the other cages. Then he looked back at Hugo and saw that he looked close to tears again.

Ron's face turned pale as he looked back at the tank. "Er..."

* * *

"_Mum! We're home!_" Hugo called, running out of the fireplace with the tank pressed tightly against his chest.

Hermione smiled. "Well, _someone's_ in a better mood," she said, though she paused when she saw Ron following behind him. At first she thought he was smiling, but it was actually more of a rictus grin, top wide and too horrible to belong anywhere but on a corpse.

"Uh-huh! Guess what Dad bought me?" Hugo said, holding up the tank for her to see. "It's a _giant spider!_"

Hermione blinked, glancing. at her husband. "_Oh._ Really?"

"Yeah! The lady said that they used magic to blend a tarantula and a _great huntsman_," he said, as though reading from a note written in his mind, "which is like a tarantula but has longer legs. He's just a baby now but he could grow up to be a _foot long!_"

Ron kept grinning, but a soft moan escaped from the back of his throat.

Hugo was still blathering. "He can live in the tank until he's older, and he's magic so he's not gonna grow for a really long time, but one day we might have to let him out and to run around the flat. Which is cool, because he'll hunt down any black beetles or lizards that are running around! I still miss Fantastic Princess Sparkles Omega a lot, but I can already tell that he and I are gonna be best mates. I'm gonna name him 'Ron,' after Dad, since he bought him for me. Or maybe 'Murderfang,'" he said, peering thoughtfully into the tank. "Anyway, I'm gonna go show him our room!"

He ran off. Hermione approached Ron cautiously.

"I told him he could have anything he wanted, as long as it wasn't a dog," Ron said, barely moving his lips. "I love my children _so_ much, Hermione."

"Yes, but are you sure—"

"_SO _much!"

She patted his arm. "I know, dear."

* * *

Hugo's door was ajar. Hermione gave it a token knock before stepping into the room. Hugo had set the tank on his bedside table and was now attaching a note that said _Merderfang Ron Weasley_ in large, careful writing.

"Getting him all settled in, then?"

"Uh-huh!" Hugo said, waving her over to bend down and watch the spider climb around the tank. "Can we feed him one of the beetles that we bought? The lady said he doesn't even need a web to kill them!"

"In a minute. But you know, I'm not sure the tank works over here by your bedside."

Hugo frowned. "Why not?"

"Well—spiders like places that are dark and out of the way. I think having him here, right next to your window and the lamp, might actually be _scaring_ him a little bit."

Hugo looked grave. "_Oh._"

"I have an idea." Hermione bent down and picked up the spare blanket that Hugo had thrown over Fantastic Princess Sparkles Omega the previous day. "Why don't we put this over the tank? That way it will be nice and dark for Deathfang—"

"Murderfang."

"—but you can still peek under and see him whenever you want?"

"Hmm...okay!"

She helped him set that up, then headed back to the kitchen. She paused in the doorway, watching as Hugo ducked under the blanket and marveled at his acquisition.

Ron was drinking tea to calm his nerves.

"Alright. You don't have to be afraid to go in his room anymore," she said, her tone just a bit mocking.

He snorted. "Says you. Do you honestly think that he'll keep that blasted thing in its tank? No matter how much we tell him to?"

For the first time, Hermione looked scared herself. "..._Oh._ That's not likely at all, is it?"

Ron's hand shook as he put his teacup back on the saucer.

* * *

**Author's Notes:** Is it better without that last scene? I dunno, but I wrote it so there ya go.


	5. History

**Author's notes:** This collection was born in Writer's Month, and now it is upon us again. Today's prompt is "History."

* * *

"...leading to the International Warlock Convention of 1289. After some debate—"

"Excuse me, Professor Binns?"

The ghostly teacher looking up with a confused blink. A short boy with wild brown hair was holding his hand up so high that he had half-risen from his seat.

"Yes, Mr. Wyness?"

"It's Weasley. Not to be rude, but I've told you that twice before. This is really boring. Can we study something else?"

The professor stared. So did Hugo's fellow students, excepting those who were still asleep. Hugo continued to look politely earnest.

"I'm sorry if you don't find this lecture sufficiently _entertaining,_ Mr. Weasley, but this is a class about _history._ What do you propose we should learn about instead?"

"I dunno. Dragons, maybe?"

Professor Binns perked up exactly one iota. "Well, that is an intriguing field of study. There are ten different breeds, found mostly in Europe, but also Asia, South America and the Antipodes—just the other day Professor Hagrid and I were discussing an interesting study…"

Several people were starting to look up when Binns caught himself and shook his head.

"But that is not the subject of today's lesson."

"But Chinese wizards were _taming_ dragons during this period!" Hugo said, digging a library book out from his bag. "Well, _trying_ to, anyway. I have some really gory pictures here if—"

"Mr. Wyness, today we are learning about the political developments of wizardkind on the continent during the late thirteenth century."

"But that's what we always learn about! Don't you think your approach to this class is kind of Eurocentric?"

Professor Binns' puckered face puckered harder.

"World history is covered in the N.E.W.T. curriculum. Now. In September of that year, a subcommittee of Sardinian sorcerers—"

Hugo's hand was in the air again. "What about Quidditch?"

"That is _also_ not the subject of today's lecture."

Hugo thought for a moment. "Would Sardinian sorcerers have known how to play Quidditch in 1289?"

There was a long pause as the two stared at each other.

"Probably not."

Professor Binns resumed his lecture. Hugo tried listening to about sixty seconds, then began filling the margins of his notes with pictures of Sardinian wizards playing Quidditch amidst a dragon-filled pitch.


End file.
